Mars Invests
by RogueWitch
Summary: Sequal to Ink, Weevil and Veronica catch up, remembering the past and getting ready for the future.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So many people reviewed my story, Ink, both here and at the other site I post, asking, or demanding, that I write the next part of the story. I wasn't really intending on going any further with it, because I have another piece that I'm working on, but the responce was so heart warming that I had to continue on with it. So here is the first chapter of the sequal, yes, I said first chapter, I'll keep going with this one... seems I really can't just write a short piece after all. Keep reviewing everyone!

Mars Invests

Part 1

She felt like such a baby the first time she had to clean her tattoo. Weevil, who liked to be called by his actual first name now, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to call him Eli, had taken her out for a quick dinner that was high in protein and carbohydrates to help her body heal after the trauma getting the tattoo had put her though. When he drove her to her hotel in San Diego, which she was staying at until she could find an apartment of her own, he gave her strict instructions to clean her tattoo when she got upstairs and then re-bandage it.

"I'm scared to hurt it." She could feel her face redden at the confession, Veronica Mars; bad-ass girl was scared to apply a little soap and water to a wound.

"I'll help you." Weevil looked a bit put out, but she could tell he was making fun of her because of her childishness. She gave him the biggest grin she could and then cocked her head to the side and the put out look left his face and was replaced by a grin of his own. "Come on, Chica. I'm only doing this once."

Veronica led him up to her room, and unlocked the door. She could feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach that where about the size of the one on her back, as he walked into her hotel room, which was ridiculous, Weevil had been her friend for years, and yet all of a sudden, the idea of them alone in her room together made her nervous. She almost regretted the fact that she couldn't bring herself to clean her own back, though the more she thought through the logistics of the task, the more she was happy that she had someone else, since reaching was also a problem.

She placed her purse and keys on the bedside table and wandered into the bathroom to gather the things he would need to clean the tattoo. She turned around and bumped directly into his chest. She was still a bit unsteady, and wavered a bit upon impact, but his hands on her shoulders kept her up right.

"Let's sit you down, before you fall." He smiled gently and guided her over to the closed lid of her toilet.

"Thanks, I'm not feeling great."

"You'll feel better in the morning; the body reacts to a tattoo almost the same way that it reacts to a really bad scrape. A tattoo in the end is trauma to the epidermal layer of the skin. The ink sits below that layer, because that is the layer of skin that you shed over time." He was busy undressing the tattoo while he told her this, completely unaware of the smile on her face.

"I always knew you where smart. I was a little disappointed that you didn't end up going to college; I thought you could be anything. I was worried that you would throw your talent away and stick with being a mechanic."

"I wasn't aware that you thought of me that much." The soap and water on the raw skin hurt a bit, but she could tell that he was no stranger to taking care of this kind of thing, his touch was gentle and caring.

"Of course I thought of you, you where my friend." She turned a bit so she could look at him while he worked. "I worried about everyone, it was my gooey marshmallow center, and Wallace liked to tease me about it."

"I knew you worried, Echolls and Kane gave you enough to worry about. I guess it just didn't occur to me that you would worry about me also." He applied more ointment to the skin, which was cold and made Veronica's muscles twitch.

"Yeah, I worried about them, but I knew in the end they would be fine. You where my wild card."

"How are they all now?"

"Do you really care, or are you just trying to distract me from cleaning my tattoo."

"I really care, and I'm done cleaning, see, that wasn't so bad."

"For you, you can see what you are doing, I would have had to do the whole thing in the mirror, and my depth perception isn't great when it comes to mirrors." She spun on the toilet seat cover to face him. Weevil was now leaning against the sink. "They're all fine, as predicted."

"Let's go into the other room to talk about this. I'm not sure how much I want to reminisce in the bathroom." Weevil helped her to her feet, and guided her to her bed, where she could get comfortable. "Be careful about sleeping on your back for the next few days. You might want to keep ointment and a bandage on it when you sleep for the first week, just so that you don't tare the scab off, you want that to fall off naturally, which also means no scratching."

"Yes, mom."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Okay. Now, what's Wallace up to these days?"

"Well, he went to Hurst on a basketball scholarship."

"I knew that part." Weevil made himself comfortable on the other side of the bed, due to the significant lack of chairs in her hotel room.

"Well, he met a very nice girl there, someone even I get along with. They are currently living in North Carolina where Wallace is assistant coaching at a high school, while he works on his masters in criminal law at Duke."

"You must be so proud."

"I am." She tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear; the years had given it a darker tint, making it almost a light brown.

"Echolls, now him, I would think you would worry about more then the rest of us, he was a mess when we graduated."

"Yeah, he was. But now, he's doing pretty well." She paused, Weevil and Logan had never really gotten along, with the exception of the truce that they had had in high school, when trying to solve Felix's murder, they had pretty much hated each other, and not that she blamed them. The only thing the two of them had in common, besides the fact that they where both friends of hers, Logan more reluctantly then Weevil, was Lilly. "Well, he got his act together. His first year at NYU was hard; he partied a bit to hard and got himself into trouble, not that that really should surprise anyone. He showed up at my door one night, asking for some help. I told him that if I was going to help him, he was going to have to get some help for his drinking. A year later, he was clean and sober and doing well in school. He's in grad school in St. Louis at Washington University; he's working on his Law degree."

"Now, that's something I thought I would never hear."

"He calls once a week and checks in, we've finally found that balance that we had in our friendship before Lilly died."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: sorry this took so long, its much harder for me to write then my other story, so its takeing a bit longer... I'm not really sure where I'm going with this one, though I know where I want it to end... if you have any suggestions, please feel free to send them my way... and don't forget to review!

Part 2

"So, your back here, Wallace is in the Carolina's and Logan is going to Law school at some fancy school in the Mid-West. Where's the mysterious Duncan?" Weevil lounged on the bed; his shoed feet perched off the side of the bed, while he leaned against her head board.

"He's out of the country. He and Lilly are doing really well; she'll be six in December. He sends me pictures every few months and letters about how she's doing in school and that kind of thing. No, I don't know where he is, though I do know that he works for his dad and is doing rather well for himself." She mimicked Weevil's comfortable position, though the butterflies in her stomach still haven't settled. Being in his tattoo shop had been one thing, even with her pants unbuttoned and her shirt tucked into her bra, she had some kind of comfort zone, they hadn't really been alone then, now they where, and half buried feelings that she had ignored in high school where cropping up again.

"Little miss detective doesn't know where her boy is? I find that hard to believe." Weevil gave her a playful smile and winked, knowing that it was killing her not to know where Duncan was.

"He asked me not to find him and I'm respecting that." She looked at her hands, trying not to give away what she knew, knowing that if Weevil could see into her eyes, he would know her secretes, the way he had been able to years ago. They might have been away from each other for five years, but some things just didn't fade with time.

"So what about you, what are doing back in California, I though that you had escaped."

"I did, I went to school in New York, and I loved it there. I got my degree in photography, yeah, I got an art degree, and I worked part time at the police department, taking pictures for them, mostly crime scene work. About three months ago, Dad called, he's been working really hard these past years, saving up money and building Mars Investigations, and he wants to open a new office, one here in San Diego, I've come home to run it."

"So, your back?"

"I'm back. Do I get to hear your story now?" She lifted her eye brows at Weevil, waiting for his answer. He took his time, gathering his thoughts, and then turned to her.

"I've been here, for the past five years I've been working at the shop. I've done designs for all kinds of people, and I love it. But about two years ago I decided that I wanted something else, I wanted to do art that everyone would appreciate, not just ink on other people's skin. I started taking art classes at the local community college; I have another year before I get my degree in graphic art." Her grin took over her face; she had had so much confidence in him back in high school, and was so thrilled to know that he had done something, something for himself, something that he had come to on his own.

"That's fantastic." She had the urge to hug him, but simultaneously had the urge to throw up; she shot off the bed and toward the bathroom. He followed closely behind, and rubbed her back, above the tattoo, while she was sick.

"You okay, Chica?"

"Yeah, just a bit nauseous, and I'm getting a head ache."

"Brush your teeth, I'm going to run to the vending machine and get you some skittles, the sugar should help."

"How is sugar going to help my stomach?" She loaded up her tooth brush with tooth paste and sticking it in her mouth, scrubbing away the taste, attacking her tongue with the bristles.

"Just trust me on this one." He left, propping the hotel room door open as he ran out.


End file.
